


Thorough Research

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair does some thinking after the episode True Crime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thorough Research

Heya all! 

As promised, I did finish one of the stories running around in my head. And here it is. Enjoy! 

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just played with them. Put them back unharmed. The book I mention is real and by Kevin Dilallo and Jack Krumholtz (ISBN 0-385-47445-8, US $12,50). If you haven't read it yet, do it, it's hilarious! 

Set after 'True Crime'. Blair does some thinking. PG, and absolutely no sex, not even implied, but still a lot of fun (I hope). Comments, please! 

## Thorough Research

by Sammy  


"Hi, Sandburg." 

"Heya, big guy." Blair Sandburg barely looks up at the sound of Jim's voice. Almost instantly his eyes move back to the book in his hands. Ellison shrugs, then turns to the kitchen to pour himself some coffee. 

After the first sip he moves back into the living room to find Blair still entranced by this book in his lap. He tries to sneak a look at the title, but Blair's pose doesn't allow it, so he finally has to ask. "So, what are you reading?" 

Was that a blush creeping up his face?! Naah, not Sandburg. Then the anthropologist raises the book without a word to let Jim read the title himself. Jim does. And chokes on his coffee to the point of near-suffocation. 

"'The Unofficial Gay Manual'?!" he coughs. A nod from the other end of the couch. And yup, a genuine blush, now spreading fast. After a while Jim manages to finally get the coffee down his throat. "You tryin' to tell me something, chief?" 

A quick laugh. "No, man! Just doin' some research..." 

"Research? Since when does your research include..." Jim loses it mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he stares at Blair. "Wait a minute \- this wouldn't have anything to do with your Sentinel studies, right? You *sure* there's no hidden meaning in here?!" 

"Hell, no, Jim!" Blair rises into an almost sitting position, pushing his hair out of his face with a somewhat nervous gesture. "It's just that... well..." 

"It's just *what*, Sandburg?" 

"Well... you remember that Hawthorne-woman?" 

Confirming nod. "Yeah. I went out with her." 

"Yeah, right, well... before you did, she talked to me." Blair continues, still squirming. "And she... uhm..." 

"Just spit it out, Sandburg." 

Uh-oh. Bad mood mode. Better get it over with. "She asked me if we had something going." 

Another cough as Jim fights with his coffee, again. "*We*?" Nod. "We, as in 'you and me'?!" Nod. "Hell, no!" 

"That's what I told her." Blair answers with a shrug. "But it got me thinking, y'know. So I borrowed this from a friend, to check some things out..." 

"A gay friend." 

Snort. Isn't it obvious? "How many straight people do you know that own this book?" 

"*You're* reading it." No answer. Jim looks up and meets Blair's gaze. Blue eyes hold his with a strange expression in them, partly smug, partly agreeing, but slightly embarrassed, all in all the perfect 'Are you so sure...?'. Jim finally clears his throat and looks away, and Blair erupts into a wide grin. Gotcha. "So. What gave her *that* idea?" 

"The morning she showed up with this camera guy of hers." A frown from Jim, and Blair continues with another shrug: "She didn't know I live here, too. And when you opened that door, with both of us not wearing very much... Well, we really must have given the perfect impression of 'caught in the act'..." 

Jim ponders about that for a few moments, then shakes his head. "She didn't seem surprised at all." 

"She wasn't, at first. But later, when she watched the tape... It just got her thinking, man." 

"Oh." Silence, while Jim shuffles around some thoughts of his own. Then, still in the state of denial: "I still don't see how she could think that we're... that *I'm*..." 

Blair, faced once again with Jim's almost naive perception of inter- gender communication, fights the sudden tempting urge to smile broadly. Instead, he tilts his head to the side and explains very solemnly: "Of course she could, man." Questioning look. Blair counters with a somewhat exasperated sigh. "Jim, you obviously don't realize it, but some people would declare you the perfect poster boy for 'Mr. Gay America'..." 

Jim stares, frowns, and growls. Blair's control cracks, and he gives in to the temptation - one corner of his mouth quirks up in a grin. 

Heavy sigh. "So you're telling me I look gay." 

"Naw, man. Just like wet dreams stuff. The classic sex object every gay man would lust after." A glare with murderous intent, and Blair raises his hands in a 'Don't shoot *me*' gesture. "Hey, I'm strictly talking appearance here, right? Which is okay, because we're talking about *men* after all..." No reaction. Jim obviously doesn't get the joke. So Blair continues, unable to resist the temptation of teasing his partner. "Hell, I bet you'd pass in any gay bar as a... what was it...?" He grabs the book and flicks through the pages until he finds what he's looking for, "Ah, that's it - you're the perfect embodiment of a 'Friend of Bill W'." 

"A what?!" 

"Well, one of the classic types of guys you'll find lurking in every gay bar. 'Friend of Bill W'. Here, listen - 'Erect posture, clean-cut, but with eyes that have seen a lot. He's spotless now, but there was a time when he was a mess. Not into booze, drugs, or cigarettes, but addicted to coffee...'." His eyes flick up to Jim who's returned to spitting his coffee all across the living room table. Just when he'd thought he had it under control... Blair smirks. "Sounds familiar, huh?" 

"Don't beat it to death, Sandburg, I get the picture." Jim replies as he carefully sets his mug down to prevent another... accident. Then he scrutinizes his guide. "So. Is there a category in there for you, too?" 

Shrug. "Nah, none really fits. You want to pick one?" He hands the book over to Ellison who flips the pages with growing interest. Then the cop grins. "I think that one might fit. 'Bouncing, swaying, and singing along to the music in the midst of a conversation, hips in perpetual motion...'" 

"Are you kidding me? The 'Dancing Queen'?!" Blair snatches the book back with an irritated frown, reading: "'Don't expect much depth, though? And whatever you do, don't crowd his spotlight?!' Is this what you think of me? Man, I'm crushed!" 

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." Jim meets his eyes with the perfect puppy dog look, the one Blair usually gives him, and after a few seconds they both dissolve into laughter. Finally Jim takes a deep breath, then points at the book. "So, how's the verdict? Are we 'suspicious'?" 

"Hm. Let's see what the gaydar says about us..." At Jim's blank look, he bothers to explain: "Gaydar. Sort of a sixth sense that every gay man is supposed to have and that tells him exactly who's 'family', too." *No wonder he's fascinated by this...* Jim thinks with a mental sigh. *I bet he spent hours pondering about Sentinels and enhanced gaydar...* "The guys included some 'guidelines' - to help straight people compensate for the missing gaydar..." 

"I get it, Sandburg. Just tell me if we fit the description." 

"Sort of." 

"'Sort of'?" Jim has to admit - he's surprised by that. "'Sort of' in what way?" 

"Wellll..." Blair says, leaning over the book again and searching for the right page. "Ah, here it is. Let's see... One or more earrings. (Stop looking at me like that, man! There was a time when you wore one, too!) A good haircut." He notices Jim's hand running absentmindedly through his short hair and has to suppress a grin. "Well-cared-for nails. Expensive sunglasses. (No need to squirm, big guy, I *know* you have them!) Moussed or gelled hair..." 

"I *don't* have enough hair to..." Jim interrupts, but stops when his gaze meets Blair's, who is slowly twisting one of his longs strands around his index finger without saying a word. "Oh. Okay. Go on." 

"Sure. Here, more physical evidence - flat stomach. Tight jeans, good butt." 

"*Don't* tell me you've been staring at my *butt*, chief!" Jim protests. 

Blair just shrugs. "Hey, man, I had to start *somewhere*! And I wasn't in the mood to start parading in front of a mirror, so, yes, I have." he quips nonchalantly. Then a devilish gleam lights up his eyes. "And your jeans *have* been getting tighter lately..." Sandburg ducks away laughing, clutching the book tight when Jim leans over to take it out of his hands. "And the final piece of evidence..." Blair grins broadly, his tone of voice suggesting an imaginary drum roll. "... 'two men grocery shopping'." 

Jim stares at him for a few seconds, stunned into speechlessness. Then he shakes his head. "We'll *never* do that again!" he states vehemently. Finally he recovers somewhat. "Okay. Anything else?" 

Sandburg still smiles, but continues skimming through the pages. "Let's see. Ah, here it is - the apartment. Some typical things you'll find in any gay man's household." he explains when noticing Jim's slightly puzzled expression. "Let's start with the living room. Hmmm. Not much here, except for the stereo with CD player... with the speakers hidden." 

"Why's that?" 

"Because they're ugly." 

"Well, they *are*." 

Sigh. "Just let me continue, okay? Here's another one: Lots of lowlight plants." An inquiring raise of an eyebrow from Jim, and Blair shrugs, reading: "'Plants are the best companions; they don't eat much, never have to be walked, and never talk back.'" 

"I've *got* to get more plants..." Jim mutters, and this time Sandburg gives him a glare. He turns the page and moves on to analyzing the next room. 

"Nothing much fits in the kitchen, except for the phone with the extra-long cord..." 

"Chief, our phone doesn't *have* a cord." 

"Exactly. Now, can I go on?" Nod. "Thank you. Ah, now comes the interesting stuff - the bedroom." He starts reading, chuckling quietly every now and then. "Well, here we have the candles for mood- setting (at least in my room)... the queen-size bed... the cordless phone (huge range for maximum conversational convenience), complete with answering machine..." Another chuckle. "Boy, I'm just glad we don't have one of these!" 

"And what exactly would 'one of these' be?" Jim inquires. 

"'A real or faux antique bachelor's chest with clean t-shirts, socks, and small towels, lubricant, condoms, and sexy magazines'..." Jim clears his throat as he realizes that he may not have a bachelor's chest, but that it's still a funny coincidence that this list resembles the contents of his nightstand so well. Blair stairs at him, eyes widening as he reads Jim's face right. "Oh, no! You can't be serious, man! You've got... *socks* in there?!" His stern expression only lasts for a few heartbeats, then he dissolves into laughter again, and, although he really doesn't want to, Jim can't help but join in. 

"Okay, let's finish this." Blair finally says, gasping for air. He grabs the book again. "Not much in the magazine section, except for an occasional GQ or Men's Health..." he murmurs. "And nothing of our CD collection, except for the Bronski Beat or Erasure that would go on my account." A quick glance to his roommate, followed by a sly smile. "Breathe, Jim. There's no Santana in here." 

Sigh, heavy this time. "Let me have a look." Jim takes the book and spends some minutes flipping through the pages, especially the chapters Sandburg has used to back up his theory. Finally he shakes his head, putting the book down. "Chief, that's all really nice, but those things are just a fraction of what is mentioned in the book. There's much more in here that *doesn't* fit." 

"Yeah, you're right." Blair admits. Then he shrugs. "So it must be us." 

Ellison puts the mug he's just picked up again down abruptly. "I beg your pardon?!" 

"Hey, man, don't snap at me!" Short pause - very short, as usual with the anthropologist. "Think about it, Jim. Two grown men living together..." 

"A lot of people do that." 

"Not when they've got a job and can afford an apartment of their own. But I was thinking more about the way we treat each other. I mean, we spend a lot of our free time together. And we touch a lot..." 

"We do?" 

"Yeah, we do. I didn't notice it before, too, but now that I've thought about it... We're a lot more touchy-feely than most men treat their buddies. A lot of little gestures, brushes, touches. It *could* look strange to others..." 

Jim thinks about this for a long time. Then he turns his head to stare at his roommate. "I guess you're right." he says slowly. "But that's simply the way I am around you, chief. I don't want to start having to control my behaviour just because people could *think*." 

Blair breathes out very slowly. "Yeah, me too, man." he admits. "So we go on as usual?" 

"I guess so." Jim's quiet for a long time while he contemplates all they've discussed. Finally he sighs. "So this means we're gay?" 

"At least to the outside world, we are." Blair confirms. He scrutinizes Jim intensely, trying to figure out how the big guy deals with all of this. He makes a decision. "So. You wanna try it, maybe?" 

Jim's head jerks around, but when he sees Blair wiggle his eyebrows suggestively (and definitely not serious), he manages to keep a straight face (how's that for a pun...?) when he answers: "Naah. Not tonight, honey." Blair's eyebrow moves up in best Vulcan style, but he has to fight hard to keep the laughter rising in his throat under control. "Got a headache." Jim concludes and gets up grinning, leaving a collapsing and severely hyperventilating Guide behind.   
  


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